


To The Outside

by miscellanium



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:59:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miscellanium/pseuds/miscellanium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuugi insisted that it was kind of nice, this breath of permanent normality to clear the air, and if anybody disagreed they never said. The word "better" kept sticking in his throat, dragging conversations to a halt, and eventually the topic faded away. Wasn't this the start of his own story, the one that would end in light?</p><p>[the death is that of a supporting character and it is nonviolent.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _you don't get over a broken heart / you just learn to carry it gracefully_ \- jens lekman
> 
> takes place after the conclusion of the manga. first three chapters were mostly written in 2012. if there are any research errors please let me know.

After months of facing down various soul-stealing and life-threatening villains, finishing summer vacation and going back to Domino High was a bit like going back to another planet. Yuugi insisted that it was kind of nice, this breath of permanent normality to clear the air, and if anybody disagreed they never said. The word "better" kept sticking in his throat, dragging conversations to a halt, and eventually the topic faded away. Wasn't this the start of his own story, the one that would end in light? He needed to move on from those dark days first, find other things to talk about, so he did.

Bakura Ryou moved on as well, his desk empty after a day. He went unmissed among the scrum of students jostling for attention, but even Jounouchi was quick to notice the way Yuugi avoided looking at the blank space.

"Doesn't need the other Yuugi, my ass," he said around a mouthful of taiyaki, a week after they came back. Yuugi was in the bathroom, creating the perfect opening for—

"I don't think we should be talking about him behind his back," Anzu said, but she set aside her bento and sat up, leaning in to hear better. "Besides, it's Atem."

Honda rolled his eyes. "Same difference. Look, we all agree that he's come a long way, right?" He barely waited for their nods before pressing on. "But to have to give up something, no, _somebody_ that's been so important to what you are, that's bound to mess a guy up."

"Yeah, look at Bakura."

"Jounouchi!" Anzu whispered sharply. "You know that's different."

Jounouchi just shrugged, but the apology was clear enough on his face. He jerked his head at the doorway, at Yuugi walking up to them, and Anzu turned to give him a wave.

"Don't worry, I know you guys were talking about me," Yuugi said as he sat in his chair, pushing away his unopened bento. "You're my best friends, it'd be rude of you not to." He laughed, the sound quickly drowned out by the chime of the class bell.

Maybe it was a bit boring, the day-to-day rhythms of school and home. Duel Monsters' time had passed, the heady days of Battle City since dropped off into small groups of hardcore gamers in room corners. Such were the ways of adolescents, but it hit the Kame Game Store hard. Sugoroku knew his business and how to stay in the black even without turning a real profit, no doubt there, but the change was taking a toll regardless. He took his meals in his room and worked constantly, lamplight squeezing under his door into the hallway well past midnight.

He wasn't the only one to eat alone. There had been a proper family dinner the first night back from Egypt, everybody seated around the small kitchen table and not saying much that didn't have to do with the food. When their plates were clean and Yuugi about to leave, his mother held up a hand.

"Just you wait, young man. It's been ages since I last got a proper look at you." Her voice was light, a slight crack midway through notwithstanding. "So what have you been up to?"

"You wouldn't believe me, mom," said Yuugi.

"Just try me. Don't forget, your grandpa is my father, as strange as that may seem; after growing up with him, there's very little I wouldn't believe." She glanced over at Sugoroku, who chuckled but said nothing.

So, Yuugi told her. Told her about Atem, about the Millennium Items, about saving the world again and again.

"Well," she said, after a pause. "I'm glad to hear you've been having so much fun with your friends."

She tried, she really did. But what could she say? "I know it's hard when you lose the ghost that you think was riding you since tenth grade?" Before long, breakfasts and dinners at Kame were solitary things; with a plate of food in his hand, every evening Yuugi knocked goodnight on Sugoroku's door, told his mother he loved her, and shut his door behind him.

-

"We're wanted by the principal?" Honda stayed at his desk, looking warily from the hall monitor hovering in the doorway to the teacher, who was looking more and more impatient with each moment wasted.

"Probably wants to congratulate us for putting Domino City on the map, hell, for representing Japan!" Jounouchi got up noisily and in the hallway made a show of tugging at his jacket, rumpling his already wrinkled shirt, and would have gone on to take care of everybody else's uniform as well had Honda not slapped his hands away.

"Get off!" Honda looked at him critically, then reached out to smooth down his shirt and straighten his collar before he could resist. "Look in a mirror before you start touching people, will you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jounouchi muttered, grinning despite himself. He set off at his usual pace, long confident strides, pausing only when the familiar sound of Yuugi's quick feet didn't start echoing behind him. "Come on, man. What's the matter?"

Yuugi hung back near the door, scuffing his sneakers against tile under the blank gaze of the hall monitor. "I don't know about this, you guys. It's been a week since we got back. Isn't that kind of long to wait?"

"It's okay." Anzu looked back with a smile, trying to meet Yuugi's eyes. "Even if it's not what Jounouchi's saying, I'm sure it'll be fine either way."

"How dare you?" Jounouchi gasped in mock horror. "Don't you know my word is law? Everything I say comes true!"

"Yeah, after everything else goes wrong," Honda whispered loudly, dodging Jounouchi's elbow with a laugh before letting out a whoop and racing him down the hall, followed by the now-furious hall monitor.

"All right. Let's do this," Yuugi said, looking up at Anzu. "It's like you're always saying; together, we can do anything!"

-

"What the fuck, man," Jounouchi said flatly. "What the fuck." The metal railing of the waterfront was cold even through his long sleeves. His uniform jacket was gone, thrown on the principal's floor, so there went the question of extra protection. "If that's his idea of congratulations I'd hate to see what he does for punishment. Asshole!" This last was shouted out at the water, turning some nearby fishermen's heads.

"Cool it, Jounouchi." Honda slouched back next to him, facing the city. The skyline had changed since he'd last been here, new buildings rising high to balance out gaps around them. "Acting like that isn't gonna get us un-expelled. If they've got new leadership and want to get strict all of a sudden there's nothing we can do. I heard they're going to start expelling a bunch more kids tomorrow."

Jounouchi threw him a glare that was half bafflement and half indignation. "Who _are_ you? Where's the rage?" When Honda didn't respond, he slammed his hands on the railing. "Jesus, man up already—" His rising voice was cut off by a hard kick from Anzu, delivered right to the back of his knees.

"How is yelling and running around without a plan going to fix anything? Maybe you need to _grow_ up—" Pulled up short by Jounouchi's indignant scoff, Anzu took a breath and unclenched her hands. "Sorry. I didn't mean that."

After a long pause, Jounouchi pushed himself away from the railing. Folding his arms against the evening chill, he glanced sidelong at Yuugi. "What about you? You've been awfully quiet. Done some growing up too?"

"I said I was sorry," Anzu muttered. Honda shook his head and spread his hands, expression clearly saying _You know how he is._

Yuugi didn't answer right off, his face hard to read in the deepening shadows. With September almost gone and autumn reaching its prime night was starting to fall fast, but their schedules had been unusual for so long the changing weather was barely worth notice.

"At some point Grandpa's going to pass the store on to me," he said. "And you guys all have your own dreams. I guess now's the time to—"

"Don't give me that shit," snapped Jounouchi. He grabbed Yuugi's shoulders and pulled him into the light of the flickering streetlamp. "Don't you dare say we oughta go our separate ways."

"What are we supposed to do, Jounouchi?" Yuugi didn't look up. "Duel Monsters was the only thing keeping us together, that and my—"

"You know as well as I do that's a big fat lie," Honda said, shoving his way past Jounouchi. "Games didn't have nothing to do with how we became friends."

"Right. You boys bonded through pain, blood, and tears, the manly way," added Anzu, her sarcasm tempered by the fond look she gave them. Yuugi's faint smile nearly prompted her to say more, adlib something appropriate on the staying power of friendship, but his eyes were still fixed on the ground. "You know what? I think right now what we all need is a good night's sleep."

"Ah, yeah." Jounouchi let go of Yuugi, disappointment flickering across his face. "See you tomorrow. Give me a lift?" At this, Honda nodded, quick and familiar.

"Sure, man."

Before the two of them were out of sight, Anzu turned to Yuugi—but he was already walking away. It was okay, though, because they'd all had a hard time, she figured, and his had been the hardest. As long as he knew his friends and family were there for him, Anzu was sure, he would make it through all right.

-

"Night, grandpa." Yuugi knocked on his door, waiting for the answering "Good night, Yuugi!" before going to his own room. After the minutes dragged on, Yuugi set down his tray. Yes, sometimes Sugoroku didn't call back right away, focusing on filling in a spreadsheet just so, but this was getting to be a bit long. He knocked again, harder this time.

"Grandpa?"

The house was quiet. There was the shuddering drone of a helicopter outside and the white noise of traffic, but nothing inside.

"Grandpa?!" He banged on the door, shouting without realizing it, and the light under his mother's door turned on.


	2. Chapter 2

Pebbles clicked against Jounouchi's window. He didn't react kindly to rude awakenings at the best of times, and when the time was one in the morning, well. Jamming slippers onto his feet and shoving the window open, he leaned out to yell, "What the hell do you want?"

"It's me, Jounouchi!" Honda stood in the alley below, looking up from astride his borrowed motorcycle. The moon was high and bright enough for Jounouchi to see the way Honda's fingers curled white around the handlebars, and his heart, barely calmed from its angry pounding, ratcheted up its beat once more.

"I'll be right down." He changed quickly, grabbing jeans and a t-shirt off the floor. After checking to make sure his keys and wallet were in his pockets he climbed out the window, cold concrete of the windowsill grating against his fingers. The motorcycle was hot against Jounouchi's night-chilled skin, and the helmet he pulled on still warm from Honda's use.

"Thanks for not calling the apartment," Jounouchi began, but Honda started the engine, mechanical thunder cutting out his words.

"Don't mention it." He kept his hand on the clutch, stayed still. "We're going to the hospital. Yuugi's grandpa had a heart attack." As Jounouchi's grip on him tightened, he let go and they sped out onto the street.

-

Anzu ran outside when they pulled up, looking as harried and disheveled as Jounouchi felt. "Oh, I'm so glad you two are here. They don't know how to talk to each other! I'm losing my mind—"

"Whoa, whoa, okay." Honda took his helmet back, reaching out quickly to pat her on the shoulder before putting it on. "Your saviors are here, never fear," he said, voice muffled by the visor. "But first I must park my noble steed."

"Shut up," Anzu said, but laughed as he pulled away. Her smile quickly disappeared, though, as she turned to Jounouchi and followed his gaze through the glass doors to the Mutous inside. "It's worse than my own parents."

"Yeah." Jounouchi stood there a moment, staring at Yuugi hunched over in one of the lobby's overlarge chairs. His hands looked so small in his lap. And opposite him sat his mother with an unopened magazine crumpled in her fingers; she was staring out the door, but if she saw Jounouchi she didn't seem to recognize him.

"Anzu, you look like crap. Go get something to drink," Jounouchi said, pressing a few bills into her hand. She opened her mouth, but her words became a yawn and she shook her head, heading across the street to the cafe there.

Honda wasn't back yet, so Jounouchi took a deep breath and went inside. As the doors closed behind him Mrs. Mutou looked up, her eyes focusing.

"Ah, hello, Jounouchi. Mazaki is very organized, to have gotten you here so fast. Such a nice girl," she said cheerfully, the magazine she held beginning to tear.

"Um, yes, Mrs. Mutou. She'll be here soon with drinks." Watching Yuugi, Jounouchi pulled up a chair and sat down. He showed no reaction. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No, no. The doctors say there's nothing—" She stopped, swallowed. "How's school? Yuugi here doesn't tell me very much about it," she said, putting a hand on Yuugi's knee.

He stood up, feet hitting the linoleum floor with a loud smack. "I'm going to go get us snacks from the vending machine." And with that he was gone, trotting down a hallway just as Honda came in.

Honda mouthed _What?_ But Jounouchi just shrugged, catching the helmet tossed at him. "School's great, Mrs. Mutou," he said loudly. "We've been having loads of fun."

"Right, nonstop fun and super-exciting classes," Honda added, dragging another chair over.

At this Mrs. Mutou seemed to relax, sagging into her seat. "Oh, good. I was worried when you boys ran off to Egypt, but then I suppose it's not like senior high is mandatory. It's been such a long time since I was in school, would you believe?"

"No way, Mrs. Mutou!" Jounouchi sat up. "If you weren't Yuugi's mom, and I weren't still in high school, I'd date you!" Honda made a face and started to apologize for his tired and _barely functional_ friend, but Mrs. Mutou waved him off with a giggle.

"Well, graduation must be soon. For such promising young men, that'll help you two very much, won't it? What plans—"

"Coffee, anyone?" Anzu held out the cardboard tray of to-go cups, her quiet arrival giving the boys a reprieve from their strained conversation. The coffee was rich and sweet; she had gone ahead and added milk and sugar to everyone's drink, playing it safe, and none of them felt like complaining. The coffee turned bitter in Jounouchi's mouth, though, when he looked up and saw Yuugi coming back empty-handed with a doctor behind him.

-

"I'll take care of Mrs. Mutou," whispered Anzu. "You two stay with Yuugi." She took Yuugi's mother by the arm and walked her slowly over to the mortuary representative, leaving Honda and Jounouchi at the doorway of the hospital room.

The lights inside were off, but they could see the darkness of the suit on Sugoroku's body under the bed sheet and the whiteness of the cotton in his ears, nose and mouth. Of the other three beds, patients in a drugged sleep occupied two and the steady drip of their IVs seemed almost loud enough to cover up the raw sound of Yuugi crying.

Jounouchi was by him in an instant with Honda close behind, their hands steady on his shaking shoulders.

"I wasn't ready for this."

"None of us were," murmured Honda, his fingers moving in small, reassuring circles over Yuugi's thin shirt. The white button-down had seen better days and the fabric was rough against their skin.

"He wouldn't answer his door, so I kept trying, calling him, and then Mom came out and asked why didn't I open the door instead of yelling, and," Yuugi broke off, breathing in shuddering gasps. "She opened the door, he was just there in his chair, mouth open, and I still thought it'd be okay, I really did—"

Jounouchi tightened his grip, bent down to look Yuugi in the eye. "Don't think about that. Think about his life, his heart. What would the other Yuugi say?" Honda was frowning at him right now, he could feel it, but he knew Yuugi. Hell, they'd laid their lives on the line for each other over and over; if he didn't know what made the guy tick by now, nobody did.

Sure enough, there was Yuugi's smile—quivering and barely there, yes, but a smile nonetheless. "He'd say that Grandpa was a good man, with the soul of a true gamer. And that I can do anything I set my mind to, even taking over the store all of a sudden—" He took a deep breath, dragged his hands across his face. "But it's too soon to talk about that right now."

They stood there for a moment, the mechanical beeps and hisses around them keeping away the silence. Honda shifted his weight from one foot to the other, doing his visible best not to fidget, then cleared his throat and said, "Do you want me to read a sutra?"

"Nah, man, you know what would be the best way to honor his memory? A duel," said Jounouchi. From a back pocket he pulled out his deck, rubber-banded together now with holsters gone the way of street duels.

In response Yuugi fished out his own deck, held together with a old brown cord and topped with a card held together with tape. Honda began to protest, because, really, a card game at a wake? But there was a bright determination in Yuugi's eyes, familiar yet all his own, and there was no refusing it. So he pulled over chairs, a somewhat wobbly desk, and appointed himself referee.

Jounouchi snorted. "Sure, if it makes you feel useful—" Honda stomped on his foot.

The duel was close, life points whittled away turn by turn, and at one critical junction Yuugi sat back and frowned. But what came out of his mouth wasn't surrender. "Do you think Kaiba still wants to play too? He'll be at the funeral, you know."

"Are you trying to psych me out? Grandpa would be ashamed, Yuugi!" Jounouchi chuckled, playing his next card. As they hit a stalemate, though, his mind wandered back to Yuugi's words.

For Yuugi's sake, he could tolerate Kaiba. Maybe. It helped that the bastard was rich; the guests' donations would help pay for the funeral, but that'd only go so far. If only he had a job—but what kind of job could an expelled teenager get, especially one whose résumé was just scattershot minimum-wage jobs and Duel Monsters tournaments? Maybe the Kame Game store, if it could take employees. The only other connections he could think of were with Kaiba, but damned if he'd go crawling to that jerk.


	3. Chapter 3

Even though it was the last week of September, noontime still got warm enough to make a guy strip to his undershirt. A day after that sleepless night at the hospital, Honda was working on his brother-in-law's motorcycle as thanks for the loan, and the warmth of the sun on his bare shoulders just served to emphasize that it was still easier to spend time away from his house than inside it. So, this compromise—nobody minded if he got grease all over the front walkway as long as he was there to do it.

Honda could hear the phone ringing, but his hands were covered in grease and the pavement around him was decorated with motorcycle guts—one wrong step and a certain somebody just might decide that murder was a good career move. So he kept working, reassembling the rear axle, until his older sister came outside with the phone.

"For you, Hiroto. Here, let me—" She held the phone between his ear and shoulder, letting go only after it seemed secure. Looking over his work, she sighed and shook her head. "Honestly, bro, why you turned down a place at my husband's garage I'll never understand."

"Later, sis," Honda tried to wave her off without dislodging the phone. She shrugged and left, her feet heavy going back up the steps. "Sorry about that," he said, raising his voice over the slamming of the door.

"It's nothing." Yuugi's voice was hard to make out over a background symphony of metal on metal, fabric whipping in the breeze, and Jounouchi shouting commands. "About the funeral, the social tent's almost up so we should be all set—" A loud crash cut him off. "Um, all set by noon tomorrow. Why did you want to know?"

Honda started screwing the last part into place, the hard plastic of the phone digging into his cheekbone as he spoke. "Everyone your grandpa knew is going to be there, right?"

"Yeah, and that was a lot of people." Yuugi chuckled, the tinny sound bright and welcome.

"He knew Bakura." Honda paused, wiping his hands on his old jeans. He stood and stretched as best he could without losing the phone, lower vertebrae popping. "Does Bakura know? I mean, I know he's a weird kid, but he's a good one, you know."

"I know," Yuugi said, the words tinged with amusement. There was the sound of rustling, the creak of a metal chair unfolding, and then he hummed noncommittally. "I think we're probably the last people he wants to see these days."

"That's just what you think—you don't really believe that, do you?" But he didn't give Yuugi a chance to answer. "You guys had a lot in common, when you think about it, and I'd have thought he'd be the best person for you to talk to, what with you both losing your other self—" A clatter on the other end pulled Honda up short. He held his breath. Maybe he'd gone a bit too far, but it seemed only logical, and where was the harm in pointing that out?

"See you tomorrow, Honda," said Yuugi, and then there was just the sound of the dial tone.

Honda let the quiet buzz go on as he wiped clean the wrenches and wrapped them up. With everything finished and put away, he ended the call and retrieved his shirt and jacket, taking one last look at the motorcycle before heading inside.

-

The public bus routes didn't have a stop right in front of Domino Museum, so after walking several blocks—cursing city planners the whole way—Honda arrived at the museum with just an hour left before closing time. It was something of a long shot, but he knew that Bakura's father was an archeologist and had some kind of museum connection, so this seemed as good a place to start as any. Honda had tried looking him up, but he was unlisted and nobody remembered where he lived. They'd visited his place only once! The thought was enough to shame a man.

Artifacts from Egypt still filled the museum, though the items on loan from the Ishtar family had long since been returned. The wall was blank where the two great stone slabs had been, but their afterimage lingered in Honda's mind. Really, the pharaoh was a selfish person, he decided. Dragging everybody after him, then leaving Yuugi like that without preparing him, not enough—

"Good evening, Honda."

"Jesus—didn't see you there!" Honda spun around to face Bakura. 

Bakura unclasped his hands from behind his back in a gesture of amused contrition, coming up alongside and gesturing at the wall. "I couldn't help but notice you've been standing here for a while. You're the first to enjoy this modern art installation," he said, ducking his head with a laugh as Honda scowled.

"Sorry. I got distracted, all right?"

"What are you apologizing to me for? It's not like I run the place." Bakura started walking over to one of the many display cases in the center of the room, and after a moment Honda followed.

Honda took a moment to look again at him, at the lightweight grey jacket he wore over a familiar tennis sweater. "You don't?" 

"All I did was help my father pack up the last of the Egypt exhibit; it shipped out this morning, so today's my last day around here." His reflection in the glass rippled as he moved.

"Then...everything's okay?" Honda winced when Bakura straightened up and turned to give him a strange look. "Just, we haven't seen you at school, and...." He spread his hands, putting on his best concerned-friend face.

Bakura shrugged. "After we got back I decided I didn't need it and wanted to save the school the trouble." His hands drifted as he spoke, first going to his pockets, then to his hair to tuck away some loose strands, then down again behind his back. "There are better ways to spend my time."

Even if the tone wasn't quite dismissive, the words sure sounded it and Honda instinctively tensed his shoulders. "I see. Then I'll just give you the news—Yuugi's grandfather died the other day, and the funeral's tomorrow." Bakura opened his mouth, but no words came. Honda laid a slip of paper on top of the display case, penciled location pressed hard into it. "I—we all hope to see you there," he added, leaving the paper there with his words as he walked away. 

"I'll be there," called Bakura, and, in the glass of the museum doors, he could see the way Honda's lips turned up into a small smile. But maybe that was just a trick of the shadows.

-

"Man, what is _he_ doing here?"

Anzu rolled her eyes. Jounouchi's mouth was full of food, but since he was glaring at Kaiba (resplendent as usual in yet another expensive-looking suit and trench coat) the words were clear enough.

"Oh, quit it. It's not like you didn't know he'd come," she said as she took him by the elbow, maneuvering through the crowd get to where Yuugi stood surrounded by a scrum of well-wishers. Honda hovered nearby, as though he were trying to keep the smaller guy from being crushed, but there was only so much he could do. "Can I talk to you for a sec, Yuugi?"

Yuugi excused himself quickly, relief not quite hidden, as Honda cleared his way. Jounouchi handed him a drink, and the four of them took refuge in one corner of the tent. It was a large gathering, with people spilling out into the park and the street beyond; Sugoroku had lived a long life.

"Any word from your father?" Anzu took a sata andagi from Jounouchi's plate, popping it into her mouth in spite of his protests.

They knew it was the condensation on the glass bottle that made Yuugi fumble, fingers slipping on the sharp edge of the screw cap. He winced, checking his fingertips for blood, but there was only a red welt running a furrow down his thumb. "He called while I was out setting up with Jounouchi. Apparently even if he had left right away he wouldn't have gotten here in time, so he's decided to finish out this sales trip."

Honda started to say something along the lines of _We're always here for you_ , except maybe not so gushy, he'd figure it out once he opened his mouth—but Jounouchi pushed ahead of him.

"C'mon, let's get out of here and go to the arcade."

"Jounouchi!" Yuugi looked scandalized, or he would have if not for his grin. "You know I can't do that."

"Worth a try," muttered Jounouchi. He glowered at at the crowd, which was slowly thinning out as the sun began to set, and stiffened. "Shit, here comes Kaiba."

"Know what, Yuugi, I think I saw Bakura talking to your mom—I should go say hi," Honda said, though in truth he had only seen a flash of white hair. "Why don't you guys come with me?"

"Great idea, Honda," Anzu said, shoving Jounouchi ahead of her.

As the three of them pushed their way over to, yes, Mrs. Mutou and Bakura, Honda cast a quick look back to see what Kaiba was doing. Jounouchi was muttering that Kaiba must be lording it over Yuugi, but it didn't look that way—his expression was vaguely supercilious, true, but it seemed to Honda that Kaiba would pull a muscle trying to show anything else. And then Bakura was smiling, saying hello like an old friend, drawing them in.

Just as Jounouchi was about to tell Mrs. Mutou the punch line to a joke the rest of them had all heard before, a sharp laugh cut through the chatter of the remaining guests.

" _That's_ your condition?" Kaiba sounded more amused than shocked. "I should tell you that I can agree to it, but I can't guarantee it'll happen."

"Fine. Deal?" Yuugi stuck out his hand.

Kaiba didn't move, at least not that Anzu or the others could see. "There's paperwork to do, notarizations—"

"Deal?"

"Fine."

Handshake over, Kaiba inclined his head and strode away.

"The hell was that," Jounouchi said loudly, getting ready to rush over, but Mrs. Mutou put a hand on his shoulder.

"Please don't worry; he was hoping this would happen."

Bakura cleared his throat. "That what would happen?"

"He didn't tell you?" Mrs. Mutou glanced around, then smiled as though she were letting them in on a secret. "He's decided to sell all his shares of Industrial Illusions for the family store."

Jounouchi whistled, visibly trying to calculate the profits. "Go figure."

"But what was that about a condition?" Anzu frowned, watching Yuugi say goodbye to the last visitor.

Mrs. Mutou shook her head. "I'm sorry, you'll have to ask him yourself. Ah, here he comes now."

"Good to see you, Bakura. Thanks for coming, everyone," Yuugi said, smiling despite the fatigue clearly showing in his eyes. The sky was dark and the street lights turning on, so they said good night one by one, promising to see each other as soon as possible. It didn't register for Honda, at least not until he got home, that Yuugi hadn't looked Jounouchi in the eyes once.


	4. Chapter 4

A week after the funeral, Anzu's cell phone was buzzing loudly. To be more precise, it was buzzing loudly at three in the morning on a Sunday. Without opening her eyes she groped around on her bedside table until her hand landed on the phone, and she pressed the speakerphone button with a loud sigh.

"If that's you, Jounouchi—"

"I know, I know, unspeakable things." Jounouchi didn't sound sorry at all. Rather, he sounded jittery, raising his voice every time a car drove by what must be the pay phone he was using. "Look, have you seen Yuugi?"

"I don't think he's even awake yet," she said, pulling her blanket up around her shoulders as she glared at the phone.

"Ha ha, very funny. I mean this week, at all? Because he's been out every time I stop by, and I don't have time to talk to his mom—"

"How gentlemanly of you."

Jounouchi's huff came through like a burst of static. "Shut up. What if he's been kidnapped or something? What if, what if Kaiba's holding him hostage to take over the store?"

Anzu propped herself up on her elbows, torn between amusement and concern. "Are you listening to yourself? As if Kaiba would want a little store like Kame Game, honestly!" But she hadn't seen Yuugi recently either, and not for lack of trying. To know that she wasn't the only one made it both better and worse. "Have you tried Honda?"

"Not yet, but..." Jounouchi sighed loudly. "Look, he's a great guy, but do you really think Yuugi would go to him and not us? No, something's up."

"All right, I'm coming over," she said as she sat up, bringing the phone to her ear as she started shrugging out of her pajamas.

"Come to the store; I'm already there. There's no back door so if he's here there's no way he can give me the slip," Jounouchi said, punctuating this with an audible wince. "That...sounded kinda creepy, didn't it?"

Anzu laughed. "Nah. It sounded a lot creepy."

"Bite me." But Jounouchi sounded more cheerful already, and Anzu hung up sure that, one way or another, they'd get to the bottom of this.

The sun wouldn't rise for another couple hours yet, and though there were some tired-eyed businessmen on the sidewalks the city was still quiet. Anzu took her time getting dressed; Yuugi'd never been ready until the last minute most of the days they walked to school together. Even the wildly flexible schedule of the duel tournaments and its all-night duels hadn't gotten him used to rising early, from the groggy mornings Anzu had seen. No, open late and close late was sure to be his business model, she thought fondly.

She left a note for her parents promising to be back for dinner, grabbed her bag on her way out the door, and let the brisk November night air really shock her awake. The bus stop was a block away and the bus itself a 30-minute wait, and she spent the time replaying the funeral in her mind. Honda had asked her out to lunch a couple days after, some small coffee shop that had just opened near the museum, and the first words out of his mouth when she sat down were, "There's something going on with Jounouchi."

"Hi to you too, Honda. How's your drink?" But even faced with her cutting sarcasm (which, granted, could be sharper) Honda had been unfazed, leaning in to tell her that he'd noticed Yuugi acting weird around Jounouchi at the funeral.

She pointed out that after somebody's close family dies, they're pretty much entitled to that kind of thing—but even so, Honda said, this was different. To not look a guy in the eyes, come on, there's something wrong there.

Thinking about it now, trying to rebuild the tent and the conversations held under it, she could see where he was coming from. The bus pulled up and she got on, but the empty seats didn't help tamp down her growing sense of unease. Surely nothing was wrong, not seriously. How often had that really been the case? Now that the stakes of the world had changed, though, maybe she had to change her idea of what it meant for things to go wrong.

Jounouchi met her at the next stop, five blocks away from Kame Game. From the look on his face he'd been thinking just as much as she had, probably more.

"Hi Anzu," he said, her name morphing into a loud yawn. "Good morning," he added with a chuckle.

"Have you even slept?" He looked down, and Anzu frowned at him. "Jounouchi, how much—"

He shrugged off her hand and started walking towards the store. "Spare me the lecture, will you?" His hair was starting to look greasy, his eyes bloodshot, and when he moved his clothes let off a stale scent that hung in the air behind him. Honda hadn't said anything about this, but then again he'd told her that he wasn't going to have much time for hanging out in the coming weeks, what with job interviews back to back.

"How's it going, now that you have all this free time? No more structure and all that?"

Even though Jounouchi was walking a few paces ahead of her she could still hear the scoff. "Just peachy. Look, are we here to check on Yuugi or for you to shrink my head?" The _Leave me alone_ went unspoken, but Anzu understood it anyway. In some senses, at least, he was as easy to read as ever.

She did not apologize because she was not sorry. Friends look out for each other and that's what she was doing, or trying to do if they would only let her. They walked the rest of the way in a silence that was more laden with frustration than anger, the kind of unhappiness that comes from knowing there's a problem but not knowing how to talk about it. It occurred to Anzu that grown-ups, or at least adults, must have to deal with this too, and the thought was not a comforting one.

By the time they got to the store and walked around to look up at Yuugi's window there was a lamp on, a thin slice of light escaping through the curtains to spotlight them in the alley.

"Oh, if he's awake, we should knock on the door. I know he can hear it up there," Anzu said, and started to move back to the front.

Jounouchi grabbed her wrist. "Wait, what if he doesn't want to answer? And, like, climbs out the window?" He was grinning wide and lopsided as he always did, yet Anzu could see there was some part of him that was not joking.

She sighed and pulled away. "Jounouchi. He wouldn't do that. Look, I know it's hard right now. We're all trying to figure out what to do." She took his hands in hers, tugging on them until he looked her in the eyes. "But we're still friends. Atem wasn't what held us together—you should know that! I never thought I'd say this to you, but stop thinking so much!" Finally he smiled, small and real. For all his bravado he was still a scared kid just like the rest of them, Anzu thought, and she was glad he trusted her.

Atem wasn't what held them together, no, but what did they have in common now? Was trust born from a shared history enough? If they were to grow apart, it was only natural, Anzu reassured herself; expulsion had just accelerated the process. That didn't make it any easier.

"C'mon, let's go knock on the door." Jounouchi led the way.

As the two of them reached out to the door it swung open; Yuugi stood there in those starry blue pajamas blinking at the fists hovering over his face, and then his face lit up bright as the morning sun behind them.

"Guys! Come on in—I was just gonna get the newspaper, but I'll be right with you!"

Anzu and Jounouchi stared at him as he wriggled between them and bent down to pick up the newspaper lying on the curb. When he turned around and saw they hadn't moved, he frowned. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing, I guess," Jounouchi said, running a hand through his hair. "We—I thought you were in trouble, because I haven't heard from you in a while and nobody else has either."

Yuugi's frown deepened as he unconsciously mirrored Jounouchi's gesture, brushing his unstyled hair away from his face, then he smiled once more. "I'm sorry. I've been super busy. Come in and we can catch up, okay?"

His grieving mother had gone to join his father, Yuugi explained briefly, leaving him with written permission to live alone for a little while. Since he didn't have much practice in cooking, and he hadn't been expecting company, breakfast was a simple affair of toast and ramen.

"I hope you don't mind—the fridge is getting empty and I haven't had time to go shopping yet."

"Oh man, I gotta take you to this one market. All the shop owners know me so they'll be sure to give you a discount," said Jounouchi, his bowl of ramen already empty.

Anzu set down her toast. "And I can show you some quick recipes that're good for experimenting. What on earth's been keeping you so busy?" It wasn't the most graceful segue, but she's seen these two practically go out of their way to not say certain things until the last possible moment and if she was sure of anything these days it'd be that communication is more important than reputation. Perhaps in this moment she was being too hard on the boys, but a part of her would always remember watching them prepare to drown, remember the words that saved them. This was not the time to think about the other dockside memories.

"You all done? Let me take your dishes." Yuugi piled them in the sink on top of unwashed pots and pans, grabbing an elastic band from the counter to tie back his hair before sitting down again. "Okay. There's just been a lot of paperwork—inheritance stuff, claiming ownership of the store, finalizing and formalizing my deal with KaibaCorp, taking inventory, getting in touch with our distributors and cancelling orders, funeral follow-up, and that's just some of it." He exhaled loudly. "And I have to do it myself, since I'm the head of the household now."

"I thought you said your mom was just out of town?" Anzu said.

Yuugi sighed again, quieter this time. "Yeah, but. She was never really involved with the store, and she's picking up her freelance teaching work again. I think she's gonna start travelling again too."

"Oh, I didn't know Mrs. Mutou was a teacher. That's cool," Jounouchi said before catching himself. He leaned over the table, tipping his chair up on its front legs, to get closer to Yuugi. "All right, wait, wait. What the hell is this about a deal with Kaiba?" 

Now Yuugi looked at him directly, no question about it, eyes full of a love impossible to categorize. "You know I'm selling my Industrial Illusion shares to him. The store needs the money and I don't see their value appreciating unless the company starts diversifying." He was fast becoming fluent in the language of business—would there be a day, Anzu wondered, when they couldn't understand what he was saying? "Kaiba really wanted them, though, and I'm sure he knows what he's doing, but I wasn't just gonna hand them over for nothing."

"It's not for nothing! That's a lot of money! " Anzu sat up as Jounouchi's chair thunked down, both taken aback.

"I know."

The more pleased with himself Yuugi sounded, the more suspicious Jounouchi's expression became. "Yuugi, what did you do?"

"I made him promise he'd find you a job at KaibaCorp."

"The fuck—" Jounouchi burst away from the table, nearly overturning it. "Why the fuck would you—If I wanted help, I'd ask! Fuck! I shouldn't even need to _say_ that!"

"Jounouchi!" Yuugi shouted over him and the room went quiet. They were all standing now, hands raised ready to fight or restrain—none of them were sure which. "Jounouchi," he said again. "I asked him because I knew the pay would be good and he respects me. You two can work together to find a good place for you, and you don't even have to accept it. If, if I didn't give you the choice I'd never forgive—" He paused to take a deep breath, but one became two, then three, each shallower than the last, until it was all he could do to keep from crying.

And then there they were, three teenagers hugging each other tight as the sun rose over the city and their shadows grew long on the kitchen floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next: more kitchen conversations and a belated birthday celebration, among other things


	5. Chapter 5

Yuugi had missed this, the particular feeling of closeness that came only in crisis. This wasn't a crisis, not exactly, but his nerves were stretched so raw over the past week that every difficult moment felt insurmountable. The sink was full of dirty dishes because he'd run out of soap and even the smallest convenience store was overwhelming. Each meal the past three days had been instant ramen because he gave up on cooking after the first few tries ended in bland burnt messes. He knew how to do these things, but after Grandpa died and the deluge of paperwork began sometimes breathing itself became a chore.

But now Jounouchi and Anzu's arms were warm around him, and finally, finally, he let go.

He'd cried before, to be sure, in the hospital room and elsewhere, but it'd never seemed like the right time. There was always something that had to be done. Now, though, he could pause and—

"I miss him," he said into Anzu's chest, voice strained. "I miss him so much—"

As he sobbed, curling into himself, they sank to the floor together. With his hair tied back, his starry pajamas wearing thin, and dark fatigue lining his eyes, Yuugi finally looked his age. Jounouchi looked over at Anzu, eyebrows raised as though he wanted to say something, but she shook her head.

"I'm not a coward," Yuugi gasped. "I'm not weak."

Anzu's eyes were wet and she squeezed him tighter. "Crying doesn't make you weak."

"But if I can't—"

"Shut up!" Jounouchi held Yuugi closer. His voice was thick and he sniffled a bit, but he wiped his eyes best as he could against his shoulder and kept going. "Your past is what makes you who you are, but it doesn't control you. I mean really, you should know that by now."

"Knowing and believing aren't the same thing, and you should know that by now." His breath was still shuddery and his face a blotchy red, yet Yuugi was smiling again. His bruised heart was still tender, blood still close to the surface, but his lungs were no longer hammered flat, his hands no longer tight and uncertain.

Anzu pulled back, let him sit up. "Atem would be so proud of you." She felt herself tear up at the optative mood, at the truth of it, and saw the others do the same.

"I don't get why it hurts like this," Yuugi admitted, wiping his eyes. "We didn't even really know each other for more than a year."

"Love's like that sometimes," Jounouchi said quietly, looking down. Yuugi looked at him, sitting on the floor with his hands loose in his lap as though he didn't think anybody was listening.

Anzu lifted a hand, palm turned towards Jounouchi, before letting it drop. But the movement caught his eye and he got up, unfolding from the floor with a studied carelessness.

"Yuugi, didn't I say I was gonna show you that market? I think they close in a couple hours so we should get going." Under the words, in the way he bit back his breath, was a private plea that Yuugi happily granted. It was not avoidance but deferral; the friendly promise of challenges to come had kept them close this far, so where was the harm in leaning on that cycle a bit longer?

"You coming with us, Anzu?" Yuugi held out his hand and she took it with a smile.

"Of course."

-

The market was on the waterfront, not far from the pier; the ocean wind carried reminders of great ships, of heavy anchors, of a range of complicated memories, but Yuugi allowed the briny air into his lungs without complaint. There were other things to do here by the city's shore, and as he grew older, his story winding closer to the light, the early chapters would surely fade. He let Jounouchi lead him from stall to stall, content at first to hang back as his friends argued over freshness and price. His senses soon adjusted to the din of hundreds, the raucous mixed scents of dead fish and fresh vegetables, and at the next stall they reached he pushed to the front and walked away with a bundle of daikon nearly as long as his forearms.

Anzu suggested making some soup stock that'd last a while, so they started heading towards one of the stalls with konbu and kezurikatsuo hanging off wooden racks. It was back near the entrance, about fifteen minutes' walk from where they'd ended up, but Jounouchi stopped short halfway there.

"Yuugi."

"What is it?" Yuugi backtracked to stand next to him. Discreetly, Anzu took their arms and moved the boys out of the main path.

Jounouchi looked down at the white plastic bags he held, focusing on them as he spoke. "About KaibaCorp. I'm not making any guarantees, but. I'm gonna do it. Thanks. Anzu, thank you too."

"Me? What'd I do?"

"This morning, what you said about free time, it got me thinking. I guess I don't do so great when I'm on my own. That's part of why—" He swallowed hard. "Why I'm glad I've been able to make some real friends."

She didn't say anything, just set down her grocery bags and hugged him. There was a time, Yuugi thought, when Jounouchi would have rebuffed her, or deflated the moment with a rude remark. But instead he let himself be held, let himself stare at Yuugi with a message clear in his eyes—here, now, was the world Yuugi had worked so hard to save.

"Thanks, Jounouchi," Anzu said, her eyes bright.

He shrugged. "It's nothing," he said, pulling away towards the entrance, yet there was a warmth to his voice. "Come on."

"Wait! Yuugi!"

They turned to see Honda jogging over. He caught up easily, despite the close-fitting business suit he wore, matching their pace as though they'd been walking together all along.

"Hey man, what're you doing here? Don't you have interviews to go to?" Jounouchi gave him a playful shove, batting at his tie and ducking away from Honda's answering swipe at his head.

"Just the one this morning and that's done now," Honda said, sighing loudly and taking off his tie. He tried lassoing Jounouchi with it, the two of them scuffling a bit, before stuffing the tie into a pocket and taking off his jacket. "I went to grab some coffee after and ran into Bakura, so we chatted a bit and he said he could use some company. I just finished helping him carry stuff to the bus; I must have missed your texts or something, but if I'd known you were gonna be here too—"

Yuugi stopped and turned around. They were in front of the stall but the market would be open a while longer. They had time. "Hold on—is Bakura going to need help getting to his apartment?"

"Nah, he said his sister would meet him at the bus stop." Honda picked up one of several small boxes filled with dried fruit, weighing it in his hand.

Anzu frowned down at the bin of imported bananas she was examining. "I didn't think he had a sister."

"Neither did I but he said it was her birthday today. Oh, that reminds me!" Honda nearly dropped the box, handing it back to the stall owner with a mumbled apology before continuing. "Yuugi, we never really did anything for your birthday, did we? There was Egypt, and then—well. And Bakura's birthday was this month, and we missed that too."

Yuugi started looking at the racked kombu. "It's nothing." June had been a busy month. Next year it'd be less busy, probably, with only the store's finances to occupy him. Friends, too, but would Honda still be around? Would Jounouchi be working late nights at KaibaCorp for extra pay? Would Anzu even be in Japan? He could run down the list of people he knew, people still talking to him—he could, but he wouldn't. Not now.

"It's not nothing," said Honda, his voice soft. "At least, I don't think it's nothing. Look, we don't do things together enough, you and me."

Jounouchi grabbed Honda's shoulder, whispering loudly and quickly into his ear, but the noise of the market drowned it out and Yuugi turned away. He pointed at what he wanted to buy, tucked the wrapped package under his arm, and carefully counted out his change to make sure he had enough for the bus ride home. He hadn't texted Honda. Jounouchi had, though, he was sure of it. The two of them were old friends like him and Anzu; that kind of connection didn't just fade away, and high school had bound them all together. No—Atem had bound them together, from the game of keep-away to that final day. And when Atem said goodbye, whom had he named? 

Yuugi faced Honda again, seeing him anew. "What did you have in mind?"

Honda grinned and took the heavier bags from him and Anzu, leading the way to the exit. "Let's go to Bakura's place. Oh, here, Jounouchi, take these bags; I need a hand free to call him."

"This is too much shit! I'm gonna drop something and it'll be your fault!" Jounouchi shouted after him, his voice too warm with affection for it to be a threat. Anzu shook her head, smiling, and in this moment Yuugi was content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ended up having to split this chapter into two - next is bakura's apartment


	6. Chapter 6

They stood outside Bakura's apartment complex, looking up at the small balcony Honda said was his. Jounouchi remembered this building, or its contours at least; the last time he'd been here was about a year ago, when he was still learning about a darkness older than the one he carried. Bakura hung out at Yuugi's shop a few times, goofed around in arcades with everybody and so on, but Bakura never invited the others over again and after a while they stopped asking. The sliding glass door was open, the screen closed, and through it they could hear a phone ringing.

"Maybe he's busy with his sister?" Anzu offered.

"Doesn't sound like anything's happening in there," Jounouchi said, a little loudly, ignoring Honda's shushing.

Yuugi shifted the weight of his groceries from one arm to another. "Why don't we go knock on his door? I'm sure he won't mind. Even if they're busy, we can still wish her a happy birthday."

Up they went, crowding into the elevator and rising quiet to the sixth floor. Honda was half down the hallway before Jounouchi even thought to pick up the bags off the floor. Calling his friend "mom" didn't seem funny right now, somehow. He'd seen Honda concerned before, obviously, but none of them lived to suffer the way Bakura did. It was just different, he told himself. When they reached number 601, Yuugi suggested they all knock together.

"Or I could just open the door. Good afternoon, everybody." Bakura chuckled, waving them in when nobody moved. "Jounouchi, you look like you've seen a ghost!"

"How did—"

"I could hear you all the way in the back. Now, please, come in already."

Bakura's apartment was spare, all white walls and plain floors, with nothing changed except maybe a potted plant in a different place than a year ago. He ushered them into the back room, though they knew the way. With the Monster World setup gone, the decorations were limited to a few family photos and some clay models of indecipherable subjects on shelves here and there, as though he had set them down temporarily and then forgotten. There was no sign of his sister.

Sick of the eggshell silence, Jounouchi put his bags on the floor then went over to the balcony and pulled aside the blinds. "Nobody out here. Jeez, Bakura, is your sister gone already? What kind of birthday—"

"Amane's dead."

Yuugi nearly dropped the bags he held. "What?"

"Oh, she died years ago, in a car accident. It's her birthday today," Bakura said, looking steadily at each of them in turn.

Hadn't there been something about meeting her at the bus stop? Jounouchi frowned, uncertain what to say, but Anzu took Bakura's arm and sat him down on the couch.

"Well, we came to wish her a happy birthday. Amane, was it?" She waited for Bakura's nod before continuing. "If it's all right with you and Amane, we'd like to also do something for your birthday—and Yuugi's too, since we skipped both of yours. How's that sound?"

Bakura didn't hesitate. "That sounds wonderful. What'd you like to do?"

"You decide," said Yuugi, bouncing on his toes. "Your birthday was the most recent!"

"Hmm." Bakura looked down at his hands, fingers locked together tight. "We haven't seen much of each other lately, so.... Talking over tea would be nice. Really, just anything low-key. Hey, have you heard of the movie 'Kichiku Dai Enkai'? Just came out a few months ago; maybe we could watch it?" 

Honda, standing behind him in a way that Jounouchi could only describe as hovering, winced and made frantic slashing motions across his throat.

"Nah, man, hot drinks sound good to me." Jounouchi pointed at the groceries Yuugi was still holding on to, bless him, despite the weight. "So where's your kitchen?"

"You can put your food in my refrigerator. There should be room," said Bakura with a small smile.

Anzu jumped up to help Yuugi find their perishables, the two of them kneeling down and rustling through the bags. On his way over to help, Jounouchi saw Honda leaning in close to Bakura and he didn't mean to, honest, but when a guy's used to his friend's voice it's easy to hear and understand things. And what he heard was Honda saying, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Less distinct was Bakura's reply of "It never came up."

He forced himself to stop listening after that. But words aside, the two of them had the close grace of people who spent most of their time together. With him and Honda it was the same, or at least it had been back when they fought back-to-back every other week. They hadn't bloodied their hands in a long time. Not like that anyway. Could people still look at them, Jounouchi wondered, and see their history? And what of Yuugi, the one who'd pulled them out of that story? The one who'd saved his life, told him he loved him?

Anzu shook his shoulder. "Hey. You okay?"

"Huh?"

Bakura looked at them upside down, head resting between two cushions. "Did you fall asleep?"

Jounouchi's body went hot and suddenly, under everyone's eyes, he was aware of the dirt on his skin. "Nah, I'm fine. Let me help you with the food, Yuugi, Anzu."

"We already did that, Jounouchi," Yuugi said, voice gentle. "Let's get off the floor and join Honda, he's setting up a game—"

Bakura uncoiled from the couch. "No. I need him to help me with the tea."

"What?" Jounouchi didn't even remember where the kitchen was, but Bakura was already leaving the room so he jumped up to follow. It was near the entrance, on the other side of the condo and far from everyone else. Bakura closed the door quickly behind them, pulling a kettle and tin out of an overhead cabinet and clattering around in search of a teapot, mugs, and tea balls. Satisfied, he held the kettle under the faucet on full blast, staring at Jounouchi as the sound of water filled the room.

"When was the last time you took a shower?"

Bristling, Jounouchi stepped toward the door. "I don't see how—"

"You want some of my clothes? I haven't shaken the habit of keeping clean spares just in case." Bakura turned away, shutting off the water and starting to scoop tea out of the tin. For a while the only conversation was that of aluminum clicking against ceramic. "I remember what it was like, before. Not sleeping. I can tell you're not sleeping. And," he shoved a mug full of boiling water at Jounouchi, "Honda's said a few things to me about what it's like at home for you. It's not the same, but." Bakura shrugged, water slopping out of the teapot and mugs he held.

Jounouchi took a sip of tea, slurping so he wouldn't burn his tongue, before saying anything. "Honda's been hanging out with you a lot, hasn't he."

Bakura raised his eyebrows. "I guess. Come on, my bedroom's across the hall." He left the room without giving a choice, again, and so Jounouchi followed him, again. 

Though their heights were different it didn't take long to find some sweats and a loose shirt that'd fit Jounouchi, and he peeled out of the t-shirt and jeans he'd been wearing for a few days. "These seem kinda big for you."

"Like I said. Just in case." Bakura took a long drink from his mug. Jounouchi looked at him, this slight, diffident kid with hair that made him stick out like a sore thumb, and understood, really understood, that he was a stranger. Oh, they were friends, sure, because Yuugi bound people together like that, but Bakura was right—it wasn't the same. Hearing someone else say it, though, say that they believed the same thing, set a foundation he hadn't realized was missing. In this unanticipated world, Jounouchi knew, believing in oneself wasn't enough when that self was bound to old horizons. He had it easy compared to Bakura, with no dead shadow dragging behind, but they were on the same road.

"Tell you what. Honda says it's bad for people to be alone." Bakura smiled indulgently, and with the afternoon light fading into evening it looked like a smirk. "Join us for lunch next time. There's a coffee place near the museum he likes. When's good for you?"

"Oh, uh." Jounouchi hadn't called Kaiba yet—the very thought of it made him clench up—but he supposed they'd have to have a meeting, so before or after that might work. But when would that be? "I'm not sure."

Bakura hummed a bit. "All right. Just let us know. But soon, right?"

"Right."

"Okay, that's settled. Now let's get this tea out there before it goes cold!" And with that Bakura was out the door, leaving Jounouchi behind again. The road was clear now and he followed at his own pace. 

-

The game Honda had put out was some Australian import Bakura's dad sent in the mail years ago, one where people roleplayed as supernatural beings in a race to discover each other's fears.

Anzu waved the instructions in Jounouchi's face, saying, "Everybody's already picked their parts. I'm the witch, Honda's the werewolf, and Yuugi's the mummy. That leaves vampire, zombie, and poltergeist for you two."

"Vampire," Bakura said immediately. "I'm done playing as Hellin."

"What?" Jounouchi yelped. "I hate both those things! I hate all of these things! Why are we playing this?"

"It's Bakura's birthday party. And mine," said Yuugi, looking at him with those eyes that made him want to say yes, always yes.

So: he tried. He really did. Yet halfway through, after another interruption from the prerecorded game master, Jounouchi exclaimed in disgust and shoved away from the table. "You said this game is called 'Nightmare'? I can see why," he muttered. 

"Don't be rude, Jounouchi," said Yuugi, but he was laughing along with everybody else. "But you know, playing as Khufu.... I wonder if he knew that pharaoh. It never really was clear when his reign was." He looked down at the dice he held.

Bakura tipped his chair back. "We could find out." He paused, as if to say more, but focused instead on balancing where he was, gaze fixed on the ceiling.

"Right, yeah, his dad has access to all sorts of research databases." Honda thumped Bakura on the shoulder, bringing him back down. 

Plucking the dice out of Yuugi's hand and rolling them around her fingers, Anzu leaned on the table. "Why don't we go now?

"Won't they be closed?" Jounouchi asked. Bakura must have a key to get in after hours, but Honda's hand lay easy on his shoulder and Jounouchi wasn't ready to see it there. He couldn't quite say why.

Sure enough, Yuugi glanced at his watch and clattered out of his chair. "Ah, we stayed so late—I didn't mean to impose on you, Bakura! Thank you for the tea and game," he said.

"You can all stay. I don't mind," Bakura said with a smile.

"No, no, I need to get back to the store so I can check the mail and take care of things. But we should do this again, definitely." 

They got to their feet, the five of them, and crowded into the kitchen to say goodbye. As Jounouchi pulled out the bags of groceries for Anzu and Yuugi, he saw the refrigerator held only canned coffee drinks and a few prepackaged dinners. Bakura closed the door in his face.

"Don't waste electricity, Jounouchi." There was that unreadable half-smile again.

"We'll hang out again soon, Bakura. Thanks for having us, and happy birthday to you and Amane," Anzu said, her clear voice cutting through the now-dim room.

Bakura held the door open as they put on their shoes and crossed the threshold. "Thank you. Yuugi, call me about the museum, okay? Good night, everybody."

-

"Jounouchi, come here for a sec." Anzu pulled him down the sidewalk a bit, away from the bus stop where Yuugi and Honda stood double-checking schedules and lines. "I just wanted to ask, about Kaiba. I know he's hard to talk to...." Her hand drifted to the pocket with her cellphone, setting the keychains dangling.

"Nah, I'm good. Really," he added at the look on her face, and he was.

"Hey, Anzu! The stop for a bus to our area is a few blocks away; we should get going!" Yuugi waved at them. Jounouchi waved back, and as they left he sauntered over to Honda.

"Staying here?"

Honda rolled his eyes. "We need to take the same bus home. Or did you forget where I live?"

"Of course I didn't forget! Jeez!" Jounouchi shoved him, grinning. "So when's it coming?"

"Not for another twenty minutes, it looks like; we just missed one," he said. "Let's just wait here. I'm tired."

Honda's expression was hard to read in the streetlight chiaroscuro. So Jounouchi raced him to the bench, all ten steps, where they flopped down against each other warm and close. Honda's shoulder nudged him with every breath, a gentle pressure of flesh and bone, and with their heads back against the glass and necks exposed to the night Jounouchi could smell cologne undercut by sweat. He might have been stuck but he knew what to do now.

He'd call Shizuka and tell her he loved her.

Even though the nights came early this time of year and the coming bus lights shone sharp white in his tired eyes, even though the city air smelt of smog and saltwater—he felt glad to be awake.


End file.
